


Which Seemed, When Dreamed

by gayshitiguess



Series: From the Bell Jar [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Ayyyyy its ya boi, Case Fic, F/F, F/M, Ghost Hunting, Ghosts, M/M, Other, Possession, actual ghost hunting, are gonna get themselves killed, ghost - Freeform, mass possession, these imcompotent idiots, this has never happened before, to be read after And the World Drops Dead, we’re getting wild today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-12-18 08:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18245819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayshitiguess/pseuds/gayshitiguess
Summary: Something is wrong with Fjord. Something is very, very wrong with the house on Love Street. Something is very, very wrong with all of them.An Interlude, to be read after “And the World Drops Dead.”





	1. Within the Nest

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyyyyyyyyyyy its ya boi!!! We’re back baby!! Now, this isn’t the official next work in the series, it’s an interlude, but it’s going to be multi-chaptered, and it’s going to lead to the next one, so it’s definitely important to read. I’ll be posting every week until this one is through! It’ll be no more than four or five chapters. The next official story won’t be posted until after May, but it’ll be good! There might be another interlude before then! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Something about Fjord set Caleb’s teeth on edge. He couldn’t quite explain it, the way that his spine shivered at the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand. It was strange to say the least. Caleb and Fjord weren’t the closest out of the group, but Fjord was a trusted confidant and not someone that Caleb would easily distrust, despite all of their combined untrustworthy tendencies. Even so, something about the Fjord that walked into his shop that day wasn’t the same one that had left it. 

 

So, Caleb figured that he should go see the house himself. 

 

Sometimes, haunted houses left a residue on the people who went there, so he could reason that Fjord had something clinging to his back that was stirring the worry in Caleb. Even so, he didn’t want to drag the whole team into a trap if he could help it. So, he took Caduceus and he went to scout out the job. 

 

“Something  _ weird?”  _ Caduceus asked, not quite wrapping his head around what Caleb meant. If he were perfectly honest, Caleb wasn’t even sure if he knew what he meant. Caduceus walked beside him, happily humming as he waved to the animals and plants that they passed by. Caleb spent most of their trip in silence, carefully contemplating his course of action, only breaking it to describe the feeling to Caduceus. Did Fjord’s behavior really warrant his reaction? Could he really distrust one of his closest allies on a  _ feeling?  _ Could he even trust his own instincts? He was an intelligent person, but if he’d learned anything over the last few months, it was that his decision making wasn’t the best it could be. 

 

“ _ Ja,”  _ Caleb said. “Something weird. Something’s wrong with him. I don’t know what.” 

 

“Maybe he’s hungry.” Caduceus said. Caleb didn’t say anything at all.  Caduceus nudged his shoulder with his elbow, and waved to a couple passing them by. 

 

“So what do we know about this place?” He asked, pulling Caleb from his thoughts. 

 

“A three story townhouse,” Caleb reviewed the file he had on it in his mind, “a family of three owns it. Their youngest son began to act strangely a few nights after they moved in. More violent, more irregular. It cumulated with him murdering the family dog. His mother and sister moved him out of the house and his behavior equalized. He's fine, if traumatized.” 

 

“Well, that’s a shame,” Caduceus said, “was it a demon or a ghost?” 

 

“A ghost, I think,” Caleb replied, “from what I can gather of the boy, there was no demonic residue, no lingering powers or marks on his soul.”

 

“Unrestful spirit,” Caduceus muttered. Caleb sometimes couldn’t tell how Clay felt about ghosts. On one hand, he always seemed grieved to see a spirit weaponized. On the other, there was such a disdain for the very idea of a soul being out of place that sympathy and anger seemed to mix inside of him. 

 

They rounded the block and the house came into sight. It looked entirely ordinary, maybe a bit run down, but not out of place from the rest of the houses on the block. Caleb turned to point it out to Clay, but he had stopped several strides back, staring up at the house with an unreadable expression. 

 

“Herr Clay?” Caleb asked, pacing back to him. 

 

“Something evil lives here.” Caduceus said, his voice low and monotone. Caleb ran his hand down the length of Clay’s arm, trying to bring him back to himself. Caduceus shivered, caught Caleb’s hand in his, and smiled nervously. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Caleb nodded. 

 

“I imagine it's whatever’s living here.” Caleb squeezed Clay’s hand in his. He waited patiently for Caduceus to walk first. 

 

They approached the house slowly, silently, Clay’s hand shaking slightly where it was clutched in Caleb’s. They walked up the steps to the front porch, Caduceus clutching the crystal around his neck. Caleb unlocked the door with the keys the family had given him. He slowly opened the door, Clay’s hand slipped out from his. 

 

There was a violent gasp behind him, and, when Caleb turned, Caduceus was standing, ramrod straight, his hands fallen to his sides. His bright, brilliant, pink eyes were blank, wide, and glazed with something shining and white. Caleb’s hands went instinctively to the book strapped to his side and the bottle of salt in his pocket. He was one second away from throwing out every exorcism he could think of, but it seemed that Caduceus beat him to it. 

 

Pink magic swirled around him, encasing his body in an outpouring of fey power. Caduceus was lifted off of the ground a few inches, bursting upwards. The magic swirled tighter and tighter around him until it couldn’t anymore. There was a moment of stillness as Caleb watched, poised to help but unable to, as Clay’s magic went still around him. 

 

And then it moved. It burst upwards, pulling a mass of white energy and a scream along with it. The magic retreated upwards, bursting into the sky above the house and dissipating to dust and light. 

 

Clay’s feet hit the ground. Caleb’s attention snapped back to him. Caduceus was a lithe person already, and Jester consistently teased him about being too skinny to eat as much as he did. This Clay was skeletal. His cheeks were sunken and bruised, his eyes were hollow. Caleb caught them for a moment, saw the life return to them, and then watched as they rolled into the back of his head. His knees crashed into the ground and Caleb shot forward to keep him from collapsing completely. 

 

Caleb hadn’t realized that he was holding his breath. He let it out shakily, supporting Clay’s tall frame in his arms, being smothered in his long, pink hair. 

 

Caleb wished that Yasha was there. Light though he be, Caleb couldn’t hope to gather all of Clay’s limbs and carry him back to the Grove. And it had to be the Grove. 

 

He shook himself and shifted. Clay’s head lolled onto his shoulder, and Caleb patted his cheek, stirring him slightly. 

 

“We need to move,” He muttered, mostly to himself. “Come on, Cad, let’s go, let’s move.” He wormed his way under Caduceus’ armpit and lifted them both off the ground with some effort. 

 

It was a long walk home. 

 

___

 

Caleb supported Caduceus as they entered the Grove, stumbling over the rocky path on the way to the house. Caleb wasn’t short, but Clay was still a foot taller than him, and he bent awkwardly at the middle while Caleb tried to support his weight. It was slow going, trudging through the graves and headstones, but they eventually made it through to the house. He deposited Caduceus on his couch and burst into his kitchen, tearing through for what he needed. Sage and salt were always in high demand in their line of work, so it wasn’t hard to find them. 

 

“White roses are on the porch,” Caduceus called, his voice rasped and drained, “it was too hot, I thought they were going to die.” Caleb, arms full of white sage and salt, bustled past Clay and onto his screened in porch where he broke off one of the fatter rose buds. He felt bad about hurting one of Clay’s plants but resigned to supply him with potting material for a few months to make it up. 

 

When he made it back into the house, Caduceus was unconscious again, splayed out, too big for his couch, murmuring quietly in his sleep. Caleb snapped, caught a small, flickering flame on his finger, and lit the sage. The smoke filled the room, shifting it into a color-dulled haze. He dug into his pockets and retrieved five white candles of various size and shape. He set them out on the ground and lit them one by one. 

 

“Please,” Caleb whispered, “he is yours. Please, protect him.” Caleb didn’t know much about the goddess that Caduceus served, but he knew that She wasn’t fond of the undead or unrest in spirits. If there was anything that She was going to protect him from, Caleb was sure that it should be this. 

 

Caleb patted Clay on the cheek, trying to rouse him to no effect. He sighed and put a little magic behind his touch, sending a spark of energy through Caduceus’ system. He jerked awake and squinted at Caleb before he seemed to realize where he was and who he was with. 

 

“Up,” Caleb ordered softly, “let’s get your toes in the earth.” Caleb led Caduceus through his living room, helping him discard pieces of clothing as they went. “We’ll burn those later,” he told Clay, supporting him as they made their way to the back of the house. He leaned Caduceus up against the house as he dug his feet into the ground, pulling up grass and dirt. “Ghost Possession 101. Let’s run it.” Clay nodded wearily. “Are you certain that you’ve been possessed?” 

 

“Yes,” Clay laid a hand against his chest, clutching at the skin there, as though he were trying to get at the center of himself. 

 

“Are you certain that it's gone?” Caleb asked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of sage ash that he kept for emergencies. Caduceus shook his head. “I’m sorry about this, my dear.” He said. Clay managed a smile and opened his mouth. Caleb poured the contents of the bottle into Caduceus’ mouth. Over his tongue he placed seven white rose petals. Caduceus closed his mouth and screwed his face up as he chewed up the petals, coughed over the ash, and dug his feet into the ground beneath him. “Okay, that should do it,” Caduceus stood back and spat the ash and petals into the hole that Caleb had dug. 

 

Caduceus stumbled back, braced himself on the house, and tried to catch his breath. Caleb sent a bolt of fire into the hole and smothered it out with dirt. 

 

“Tea,” he said. Caduceus nodded. 

 

Clay’s hands were shaking so badly that Caleb had to make it for him. 

 

Caleb walked outside to burn the clothes, observing the stillness in the graveyard. The air was cool and empty. Nothing followed them home. 

 

Caleb retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialed Molly. He picked up on the third ring. 

 

“ _ Hello, dear!”  _ Molly called through the phone. “ _ Thought you would be home sooner, _ ” 

 

“We had a problem,” Caleb said, rubbing the tired out of his eyes, “has Fjord been acting strangely?” 


	2. Best Laid Plans...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something Wrong with Fjord, the House on Love Street, and Not-Caleb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya boi is livvvving for this. I’ve been wanting to write a proper case fic!!!! But we’ve been dealing with these fucker’s personal shit. I hope you guys enjoy!! I love comments! Come talk to me!

The tape around her left hand was too loose, so Beau had taken a break from beating the shit out of a dummy shaped like Yasha to fix it.

 

It wasn’t that she actually wanted to beat Yasha up. It was more that she wanted to stop flirting with a brick wall. Beau was beyond frustrated at this point. They had shared that moment with each other, had been so close to something more, and then, when Yasha had gotten back, she had acted like nothing had happened at all. 

 

_ “You don’t have to go,”  _ Beau had said. And Yasha had carefully wrapped her up in those huge arms and held her. Just held her for several moments. Beau thought she might melt. 

 

And Yasha left. And she came back. And nothing changed. 

 

Beau knew that she was hot. She was a fucking delight and it was beginning to piss her off, how easily Yasha could turn away from her. 

 

She tugged her tape a bit too tight and went back to punching. Eventually, the dummy began to shift. The tall, broad frame morphed as she pounded into it. It become much leaner, shorter, agile and vaguely her-shaped. Beau stopped, not remembering giving the thing permission to change, and kicked it once, twice, until it lost its balance and met the ground. 

 

That was enough for the day, she supposed. 

 

She made her way out of her gym and longed, somewhere far off, for the real one. Caleb had done a great job recreating the place she’d called home for most of her life, but he couldn’t simulate the people. She was all alone in that big room and all she could do was beat the shit out of herself. There was something hollow to the place, something hollow to her. 

 

Molly came bursting into her room, his phone clutched in his hand, looking frantic and afraid. That was unusual. Molly wasn’t the kind of person who scared easily. Worry just didn’t look good on him. He shut her door behind him and locked it, tucking his phone in his pocket and pressing his ear to the door, as though checking that they were truly alone. 

 

“So we’re just a bit fucked,” Molly whispered, taking Beau’s hand and leading her into the gym. He locked that door behind them too. With two layers of separation, he seemed to relax, pulling out his phone, scrolling through his contacts, hovering over Caleb’s name, and then locking it and putting it back in his pocket. 

 

“Hey dude,” Beau said, noting gratefully that the gym had had time to reset and there was no longer a Beau-shaped dummy on the ground, “what the fuck?” Molly laughed, light and humorless as he tugged at his hair. 

 

“Have you noticed Fjord acting strangely in the past twenty-four hours?” He asked, his hands twitched, as though they were itching for his swords. Beau cast her mind back, running through her interactions with Fjord in the past few days. She had been relieved that the Mighty Nein had taken a break of sorts after the whole Ikathon debacle. Caleb had needed it, certainly, but really they all had. Molly hadn’t been the same when they came back. Something fundamental had changed in him and it bothered her. She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that he had died and come back for the third time, but she wasn’t going to debate or turn her nose up to it. Still, she really wouldn’t have been comfortable, running an exorcism with that half-Molly. He had made his way back to himself, bit by bit. Still, she could tell that something was different. Not wrong, not better, just different. 

 

However, not running jobs meant that she didn’t always see all of her teammates on a daily basis. Jester, Nott, and Molly she saw most days, Yasha every few, if she was in town, and Caleb and Caduceus the least since they had a library and a graveyard to look over respectively. Fjord, though, Fjord she saw every day. Beau was loathe to admit that she was fond of any of them, but Fjord had kind of weaseled his way into her heart. Molly was her brother, no doubt about it, but Fjord was earning that title too. 

 

And now that she had thought about it, she hadn’t seen him all day. She met Molly’s eyes. 

 

“I haven’t seen him,” She said softly. 

 

“Which is weird!” Molly seemed ecstatic that someone else was acknowledging it. “He’s such a dad, he has to check up on all of us at least once a day, but not today!” 

 

“Don’t give him too much credit,” Beau cut in, “he’s a seemingly responsible older brother at best. But the point still stands. Something’s up.” 

 

“That’s what Caleb thinks,” Molly pulled out his phone, if only to have something in his hand. “He and Cad went to that house we’ve been looking into. He had that interview with the family…”

 

“Right,” Beau encouraged.

 

“Well, Fjord when to scout it out yesterday,” Molly rubbed at his knee. “And when he came back, he was acting weird. Caleb and Cad just went to check it out since he thought something was going on and Caduceus got fucking possessed.” 

 

“What the fuck?” Beau breathed. “Is he okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Molly reassured, “his magic took care of it, but still, fucking crazy that the second he stepped on the property, he was taken out.” 

 

“And it would make sense that the same would happen to Fjord,” Beau finished Molly’s thought. 

 

“And his magic isn’t the kind that throws it off.” Molly clicked his phone on and off. “Which means that Fjord is probably possessed.” 

 

“What should we do?” Beau asked. 

 

“I mean, we can’t leave him here. Imagine what he’d get up to in this place.” 

 

“He’s Nott in an antique store.” 

 

“We have to take him with us.” 

 

“And if he goes after us? Which he will, by the way.” 

 

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll just have to knock him out and hope for the best.” Molly sighed. 

 

“A+ plan.” 

 

“Yeah.” Molly smiled at her. “Of course this would happen. We’re such fuck ups.” 

 

“The best. The best fuck ups.” She smiled back. “We can’t tell Jester.” She said. Molly nodded. “Okay. Let’s go fuck up our friend.” 

 

__

 

The air in the van was thick and Beau couldn’t stop looking at the front. Molly was sitting stiffly by Fjord, tapping his long fingernails on his swords, quieter than he’d ever been. Beau cursed under her breath and remembered how shit Mollymauk was at lying. 

 

Yasha caught her eye. Beau looked at Fjord, looked back at Yasha, shook her head. Somehow, Yasha seemed to understand. Yasha brushed against Nott slyly and did the same. Jester looked between them all expectantly. Beau shook her head and smiled, taking Jester’s hand in her own. 

 

Jester couldn’t know about it. She was different than the rest of them. Soldiers, they were, a bunch of soldiers. They’d all seen terrible, terrible war, and Jester hadn’t. The only combat she’d seen was the fights they’d exposed her to. She was soft. And plus, she had a thing for Fjord, she couldn’t have handled it. She couldn’t handle it. 

 

Beau felt bad as soon as the thought crossed her mind. Bad. Not wrong. She squeezed Jester’s hand in hers. 

 

Fjord pulled up to the Grove, not pulling into the hallowed ground. Beau shivered. They sat in silence as Caleb came walking down the path. Caduceus was not with him. 

 

Molly got out of the passenger seat and met him with a short, caste kiss, followed by a few short words. Molly got back into the passenger seat and Caleb climbed into the back. He sat down next to her and brushed their shoulders together. She bumped him back, telling him that she knew. 

 

“Okay,” Caleb said, “I think we have a house with malicious spirits. It’s on Love Street, it’s rather large, and as soon as Caduceus stepped foot on the premises, he was attacked. We are going into the arms of a very dangerous creature.” 

 

“Plan?” Beau asked. Caleb let out a sigh. 

 

“We do what we do. Exorcise it.” He scratched at his arm and checked his phone. There was a text from Nila that she couldn’t read it fast enough. 

 

“So, no plan?” She said. He looked at her hands and hummed. 

 

Then, his eyes flashed up to hers and held them. 

 

Right. He had a plan. She looked at the back of Fjord’s seat and then, slowly, back to Caleb. He blinked slowly. So, Caleb had a plan. She just needed her to take care of Fjord. 

 

The rest of the ride was quiet. Yasha wouldn’t meet her eyes. Beau gave up after a few minutes. 

 

The house was almost completely normal, but so were most houses that were haunted. Beau hadn’t set foot in one of them that looked like a Halloween attraction. As they unloaded from Fjord’s van, she stayed at his side, never more than a foot away from him. It felt so strange, the air around him. Beau knew that their group all complimented each other very well, but she felt especially effective next to Fjord in a fight. He was fast, smart, he could track his fight and hers at the same time. It was stabilizing, having him at her back. Plus, an eldritch abomination was always nice to have on your side. 

 

Fjord would die for her. He would take a bullet, a blade, a demon in her place. This Fjord, though, this Fjord could turn his back on her bloody body. It made her shiver and her chest ache. 

 

The stupid motherfucker. Of course he had to walk into the haunted house. He was so stupid. They were all so stupid. 

 

Beau saw Nott move forward one moment and the next she was gone, the door to the house opening and closing quickly. They took their time walking up the steps, waiting for her to return. Beau took her staff in her hands and adjusted her bracers. Caleb’s hand came up to his ear like a secret service man. He cupped his hands around his mouth. 

 

“Alright, coming.” He said softly. 

 

“Are we moving?” Fjord asked. Beau shook at his voice. Fjord’s accent was never quite right, but this was… wrong. Not just fake, but wrong. His voice was hollow. There was no him behind it. 

 

“No, Nott is inside, she needs me.” He pointed as he began to walk up the steps to the porch. “I’ll be right back.” Beau watched as he disappeared into the house. Yasha flanked her from behind, bopping her shoulder with her elbow as she crossed her arms. She might be thick as hell when it came to flirting, but at least Yasha had her back. 

 

Jester moved forward and linked her arm into Fjord’s. Beau could feel her heart rate spike and she fought to keep from reacting violently. 

 

“This isn’t creepy  _ at all.”  _ Jester bemoaned, adjusting her ax on her back. “When are we going to a  _ creepy  _ haunted house?” She was obviously talking to Fjord, but when he didn’t answer, Molly stepped in line next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He could pull her away if he needed to. Beau’s heart slowed down minimally. 

 

“I think the fact of it being haunted is creepy enough,  _ Picardias. _ ” He said, somehow keeping up his jovial tone. Jester looked up at him and then to Beau. Beau couldn’t hide the look on her face fast enough. Jester froze and then, very slowly, pulled her arm away from Fjord. Beau tensed, ready to put him in the ground. Nott opened the front door. 

 

“Everything’s fine!” Caleb called through the door, “Come up,” he turned back to the darkened hallway in front of him. The air felt strange and heavy as she crossed the threshold, like she was breathing cement. Beau shrugged it off and focused on Jester, who was quizzically focused on Fjord. Beau took her hand and tried to pull her away as they entered the entryway, but she didn’t budge. 

 

She should have been paying more attention. 

 

“Caleb?” Molly asked, stepping forward. He took Caleb’s hand in his. Caleb didn’t recuperate much, his head cocked to the side and his eyebrow raised, like he was curious at the sight of them. Molly dropped his hand almost immediately, taking an involuntary step back. “What’s wrong?” His voice shook ever so slightly. Caleb’s hands went to his pockets. Beau saw him rooting around for something. She tugged Jester closer. 

 

There was a voice like wind carrying through the room, soft and deep and crawling. Beau’s breathe hitched as she heard it and searched for the source. 

 

“ _ Light them up, pretty,”  _ Caleb had gathered two components she couldn’t identify in either palm and he clapped them together. For a moment, nothing happened. And then, a spark of magic sent off flames. She saw Fjord take Jester’s other hand. 

 

Caleb’s eyes were the same kind of blank they were when he was trapped in his own brain. His hands shot out and from them came a burst of fire, big enough to eat her entirely. Beau reacted quickly like always and tried to jump out of the way and take Jester with her, but as she pulled on her, Jester didn’t move. Fjord was clutching tightly onto her other hand, keeping her in place. Jester’s eyes were huge and full of fear and tears as she met Beau’s, but there was determination in there too. 

 

She placed her hand square on Beau’s chest and pushed her backwards. Beau didn’t expect that and fell flat on her back, the wind knocked out of her. She was saved from most of the damage, but the fire still licked at her feet. She saw Jester pushed back against the door, fire tearing through her. Beau tracked back towards Caleb- towards Not-Caleb- and saw Molly and Yasha on the ground. Molly had been too close and was clutching at the side of his face with something between pain and rage where it was burned. 

 

Not-Caleb was standing completely still, his hands still outstretched. Around his shoulders lounged a spectre, translucent and glowing soft pink. The closer that Beau looked at it, the harder it was to place exactly what it looked like, but out of the corner of her eye, she could mistake it for Molly. It slowly curved its head towards her, a cruel smile cut across its face. 

 

Beau moved, took her staff in her hands and swept it into the back of Caleb’s knees, sending him crashing into the ground. She cracked him in the head and kept running, hoping the stun would be enough to distract him. She set her gaze on Jester. 

 

And then a wall of fire rose from the ground, right under her feet. She screamed but kept running, moving through the solid foot of flames. Pain didn’t begin to describe it. Beau could handle broken bones and bruises, but being burned alive was out of her league.

 

Oh god, what was Caleb seeing right now? He’d seen too many people he loved die by his fire. 

 

She’d just have to live, then. 

 

She burst through the flames, came crashing into the wall, and tried to reorient herself. Jester a few feet away, her ax buried in Fjord’s shoulder, keeping her own against his sword. 

 

Hot damn. Beau felt a pang of guilt at assuming that she couldn’t handle this. She was the baddest bitch in the world. Of course Jester could handle this. 

 

Even so, Beau made her way to her feet and came to her side, kicking Fjord in the face and taking Jester’s hand. She didn’t need much prompting to start moving towards the next room. Beau looked around frantically and saw as Molly drew his swords across the back of his neck and started swinging at Fjord, but without Caduceus’ spell, he couldn’t move as fast. Beau panicked as one blow landed, then another, and another. Molly’s knees buckled. 

 

She surged forward, cracking her staff once, twice, three times into Fjord’s ribs. He grunted, went to swing at her, and then tensed, the nerves she hit seizing up and locking him in place. Molly slumped on his knees and clutched at his chest. 

 

“Jesus, dude,” Beau helped him to his feet. He leaned into her until he saw Not-Caleb again, and then he surged forward, almost sending himself back to the ground. 

 

Yasha was fighting off Not-Caleb, which usually wouldn’t be a difficult task, but now, she was having to hold her own against an onslaught of spells that wouldn’t stop. 

 

It was instinct. Pure instinct. Beau would have done the same if she had had a giant sword and a mage throwing fire in her face. Yasha would, no doubt, blame herself for it later on, but the point stood. 

 

Yasha, in one, desperate movement, as she was pushed against the wall, plunged her sword into Caleb’s chest. 

 

Molly made a sound like a dying animal. Caleb’s knees hit the ground. Beau could see where the tip of the sword poked at the back of his jacket. 

 

His eyes weren’t empty anymore. They scanned the room and landed on Yasha as she removed her sword with horror. He gasped, barely getting air into his lungs. Molly broke free from Beau’s hold and stumbled to land next to Caleb on the ground. Caleb’s eyes didn’t leave Yasha. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled to Yasha. “I’m sorry,” blood was filling his mouth. Molly’s hands trailed up his torso and landed on his face. 

 

“No, no, no,” he chanted, like the words could close the wound, “no,  _ cariño, no, no me dejes, leanbh, ná fág mé, le do thoil,”  _ Molly was switching between languages, begging Caleb to stay, grasping at the life fading out of him. 

 

And then Caleb seemed to explode. 

 

Magic poured out from him, but not his magic, not the gold stuff that made Beau’s skin crawl. It was somewhere between red and pink, and it didn’t move like the magic that she had seen. Granted, that was a limited amount, but it wasn’t light or smoke or dust. It moved like blood. Like blood floating through the air. 

 

The blast sent Molly sprawling backwards and Yasha into the wall behind her. Beau could see Fjord beginning to regain his movement and Not-Caleb’s chest was closing up, slathered in pink magic. She only had a moment to decide what to do. 

 

Beau was closer to Yasha. Molly was on the ground, making his way to his knees, crawling towards Not-Caleb. Blood magic wrapped around him, surrounded him. She couldn’t save him. She couldn’t save him. 

 

Beau pushed Yasha through the open door leading to the next room and slammed it shut behind them. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on tumblr at gayshitiguess.


	3. Deals in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disaster Lesbians, Unknown Callers, Succubi, and Getting Out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IIIi love this chapter and don’t have enough energy to actually write notes, so please enjoy!
> 
> Come chat with me on Tumblr at gayshitiguess. I looove hearing from you in the comments and asks on my blog. It seriously makes my day.

“What the  _ fuck, Caleb!”  _ Jester screamed at the door. She clutched at her arm, where the majority of her burns were, and tried to figure out just how bad they were. If Caduceus were there, it wouldn’t be much of a problem. It probably wouldn't even scar. As it were, Beau flinched at the sight of it, bubbling with blood and blistering already. 

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Yasha made to go back for Molly, clutching at her sword and wiping at the blood above her eyebrow, but Beau stepped in front of the door. 

 

“It’s got him, Yash, we need to figure this out so we can save them, but right now, there’s nothing we can do,” Beau’s chest was numb and buzzing. She could feel the waves of panic that were crashing over her and threatening to overtake her. She forced herself to breathe. She couldn’t afford to shut down at the moment. Yasha’s eyes met hers, dark and horrible. 

 

There was something burning in Yasha, some fire that she couldn’t direct. Beau was scared of it, but Beau wasn’t scared of her. 

 

There was a crash from the door as something collided with it in an attempt to push it open. The wood splintered and the door half opened. She could see half of Molly’s face, gritted, bloody, and burned. She was close enough that the door collided with her back. She turned and pushed back, Yasha joining her. Jester yelp and rushed forward. The three of them managed to close the door again and Jester worked her ax into the door handle. Yasha took each of their hands in her own and started dragging them through the room to the opposite side, where another door lead to a hallway. They followed the dark space until Yasha picked a random door and pushed them inside before her. Beau could hear Jester’s breathing in the small, dark room, the sound of distant footsteps, her heart betting ever faster in her chest. 

 

“What are we going to do?” Jester’s voice was quiet and tinged with pain. 

 

“We’re gonna-“ Beau could feel the panic building in her chest again. “We’re gonna save them. Caleb was gonna exorcise Fjord, so we just exorcise all of them.” 

 

“Something was wrong with Fjord,” Jester said, “and you knew.” There was an accusation in her voice. Beau flinched. 

 

“Jes-“ Beau started. 

 

“You didn’t tell me.” She sounded so hurt, so hurt. Yasha stepped forward and placed her hand on Jester’s shoulder. She tutted and pulled out Jester’s first aid kit, applying salve to the few burns that it would cover. 

 

“Jessy, we had to move fast, Molly and I barely got the call before we had to leave.” Beau rubbed at her brow. “It wasn’t anything to do with you.” 

 

“Of course it was,” Jester’s eyes were sharp and cold. “None of you think I can take care of myself. You don’t think I can handle anything at all! I’m not a baby!” 

 

“Jester,” Yasha said, “I’m sorry. We should have told you. You’re right, we have a tendency to look down on you, and it’s not right. We can talk more about it when we get out of here. For now, we need to save our friends and get out. I’m sorry.” Yasha took Jester’s hand in hers and kissed it. 

 

Beau could have kicked herself. Yasha had never been that gentle with anyone besides Molly. She wanted to scream. She could still imagine those arms wrapping around her, fast and hard, before she was released and Yasha was gone. They had had all of the time in the world, and Yasha had run away as soon as she could. Now, in a pocket of stolen time in the middle of a war zone, Yasha’s lips lingers on Jester’s skin. 

 

Beau couldn’t decide whether to be pissed off or turned on. 

 

“Well you two might not not have noticed, but everyone who could have done something about it is either not here or fucking possessed! What are  _ we _ gonna do about it?” She could feel the panic now in her throat, threatening to bubble up past her mouth. 

 

“Beau, calm down.” Yasha said. She put her hand on Beau’s shoulder, a heavy weight crushing down on her. No gentle magic. No kisses to her hand, just the weight on her shoulders, always pushing down, always crushing her. 

 

“What the fuck are we supposed to do, Yasha?” Beau half screamed. 

 

“We’re supposed to stay calm, make a plan, and solve the problem. We can figure this out. We have spent enough time with this kind of thing to save our friends.” Beau wasn’t sure if Yasha was actually confident in that statement. It was hard to tell with her sometimes. 

 

“We should call Caduceus.” Jester said, wringing her hands.

 

“He’s out.” Beau shook her head. “The house fucked with him, he’s down for the count.” Jester grunted and started pacing. 

 

“Caleb has people that he talks to,” Yasha said, “contacts. We could try them.” 

 

“I don’t have Caleb’s fucking address book.” Beau ran her hands over the shaved portion of her hair. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out and paced away from the other two. 

 

It was an unknown number, which wouldn’t have been extremely strange, except it literally read as ‘ _ UNKNOWN,’  _ not providing any actual number. Apparently, she had it already in her phone, because there was an ID image. A skull and crossbones against a black background flashed across her screen. Something in the air changed. She picked it up. Nothing could possibly make this situation worse, so why not? 

 

“Hello?” She said, plugging her other ear to Jester and Yasha’s quiet conversation. The voice on the other end was nice, soothing, even, and twinged with a British accent. 

 

“ _ Call +44 7911 123559. Ask for Shaun Gilmore. Tell him you’re calling on behalf of Caleb Widogast. _ ” The voice said. Beau tried to find her voice. 

 

“Uh- you-“ She stuttered over her sentence. 

 

“ _ Call +44 7911 123559. Ask for Shaun Gilmore. Tell him you’re calling on behalf of Caleb Widogast. _ ” The voice said again. Beau snapped to get the attention of the others. 

 

“Get out your phone, Jes,” She said, something in her tone quelling any fight that Jester had. She put the call on speaker.

 

“ _ Call +44 7911 123559. Ask for Shaun Gilmore. Tell him you’re calling on behalf of Caleb Widogast.”  _ Jester typed the number into her phone. Beau hung up the call. 

 

It rang three times before someone picked up. 

 

“ _ How did you get this number _ ?” The voice on the other side of the line said, Beau let out a breath. She could do another person. She couldn’t handle weird possessions or mystery calls, but a normal human being she could handle.

 

“Uh-are-are you Shaun Gilmore?” She asked dumbly. 

 

_ “Why yes, I am. How did you get this number?”  _ He stressed, his voice strained. 

 

“We’re calling on behalf of Caleb Widogast.” Yasha cut in. “He is hurt and we don’t have the facilities to help. We were hoping you did.” 

 

“ _ Oh dear, isn’t he always though?”  _ The man sighed. “ _ What did he get himself into this time?”  _

 

“He’s possessed and acting like a jerk,” Jester said. Beau smiled. 

 

“ _ Most possessed people do. Details, possessed by what?”  _ Gilmore asked.

 

“Ghost?” Beau said, “I saw it, kind of weird, hard to look at. It kind of looked like his boyfriend? Which is weird.” Gilmore laughed on the other end of the line. 

 

“ _ Caleb has a boyfriend?”  _ He half screamed, “ _ Finally! I knew he was holding something back, the bastard!”  _

 

“Mr. Gilmore,” Yasha mumbled. 

 

_ ”Right, right, my apologizes. Weird, hard to look at, looks sort of like his boyfriend.”  _ There was the sound of pages fluttering as Gilmore flipped through a book of some sort. “ _ Was there a separate type of magic acting independent of the ghost’s physical form?”  _

 

“Yes,” Yasha said. 

 

“It was really gross,” Jester said, “it was like super slimy.” 

 

“Like blood,” Beau cut in, “it looked like blood.” 

 

“ _ Fuck,”  _ Gilmore cursed, “ _ fuck, you’ve got a succubus.”  _ He said it like it was something to be properly afraid of. “ _ Lesser demon, very nasty. It not only possesses but twists the mind with pretty things that tell you it’s right. The longer it possesses a host, the harder it is to remove.”  _ Beau swallowed. 

 

“Okay,” she said, “okay what do we do? How do we get rid of it?” 

 

“ _ Are any of you mages?”  _ He asked. 

 

“No,” Jester whispered. 

 

“ _ Exorcists?”  _

 

“In the vaguest of terms,” Beau said. 

 

“We’re muscle.” Yasha replied. 

 

“ _ Then  _ you  _ don’t,”  _ Gilmore said. “ _ Your only job is to get the fuck out of that house. It’ll take me a few hours to get to you, but there’s very little that you can do at this point.”  _

 

“We’re not leaving them,” Yasha said, and it felt intrinsically true. Beau couldn’t imagine walking out of the house without them. 

 

“ _ Yes, you are.”  _ Gilmore replied. “ _ Or I can’t guarantee that you’ll survive. The very best way that you can help them is to leave. I will need your help, but I can't have that help if you’re possessed or dead. Get. Out. Now.”  _

 

Beau didn’t like people who told her what to do. She really didn’t like people who made a lot of sense while they did it. 

 

“Okay,” She said, “okay, yeah. Yeah, we’ll get out. A few hours?”

 

“ _ No more than three. Be careful.”  _ Gilmore said. Jester hung up. 

 

The room was very, very quiet. 

 

“We’re leaving them.” Yasha said. “Again.” 

 

“Yeah,” Beau replied. “We are.” 

 

Beau pulled out the bottle of holy water that she kept among her things. It might have been a fancy demon, but it was still a demon. Demons could burn. 

 

She looked at Jester and she looked at Yasha. 

 

“Hey Nott?” She called into the darkened room. “Where are you?” 

 

There was a very long moment of silence. 

 

And then an arrow slammed into her back. 

 

Beau swung around in time to catch another arrow coming for her chest this time. She caught it barely an inch into her skin, and tugged it out, using her own momentum and throwing it back. It must have landed, because there was the squelch of impact and a small scream, and then Nott came bursting out of the shadows. Her blood was alight with magic and Beau barely managed to dodge the arrows that spat out at her and tugged Jester behind her. A ball of green collided with Yasha and sent her stumbling back. Nott‘s seldom used but vicious knife was buried in her shoulder. 

 

Yasha looked at Beau, looked straight at her, and there was none of the avoidance or denial that had been in her eyes for so long. There was clear, honest understanding. 

 

“Go!” She screamed as she wrestled Nott to the ground. An arrow sunk into her neck and Yasha flung backwards against the wall. Blood flowed much too freely from her wound. 

 

Beau dashed forward and smacked Nott in the back of the head with her staff, sending her crashing into the ground a few feet away. She took the bottle and emptied it on top of Nott’s head, flinching at the sound of sizzling flesh. She knelt on one knee in front of Yasha and pressed her hand terribly hard against the wound. “Fuck you!” She screamed back. She wasn’t leaving anyone else behind. Yasha’s eyes were cold and far away, bloody and mismatched. 

 

Beau watched the life slip away from those eyes. 

 

And then that magic, that bloody, floating magic, burst forth from her chest. Around her chest came hands, big, strong arms, that wound tightly in front of her. The shape of a woman, hard to look at, but there. Beautiful, big, scarred face, light hair. She looked at Yasha like she was the only thing in the world. There was a sadness in er her face. Yasha sprang forward. She might have been strong, but Beau was fast. 

 

She jumped back, practically crawling until she ran into Jester’s legs. Jester helped her to her feet and dragged her towards the door, shoving her into the hallway. The two of them stumbled into the darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on Tumblr at gayshitiguess.


	4. Cornered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Master Bedrooms, Other People’s Showers, Grand Staircase Railings, and Jester’s Imaginary Friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been waiting for this since I started this series. If anybody is wondering why I’ve put Jester in the background and denied her her badass shit, this is it. If you’d like, come talk to me on tumblr at gayshitiguess. I looove hearing from you guys. Seriously, it makes my day. Enjoy!

Jester’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding in her chest, but she kept moving, kept dragging Beau behind her by the wrist, not stopping until they were as far away from Yasha and Nott as they possibly could be. That happened to be through the hallway, up a staircase, through another hallway, and into the master bedroom, door locked and silent. She and Beau managed to work the dresser in front of the door, effectively blocking it off. It was then that she realized that there was absolutely no way out of the house from the second floor. Beau seemed to realize the same thing, and went about inspecting the large window on the far wall. Jester tried to catch her breathe. 

 

“Jes,” Beau murmured after a moment, “listen, I’m sorry,” She sounded winded and focused on her task, but Jester knew that when Beau apologized (which was very infrequently), she often tried to make it sound as bored and insincere as possible. 

 

“I don’t think this is exactly when we should be talking about it, Beau,” She breathed out and ran her fingers through her knotted hair. 

 

“I mean it,” Beau said, “cause I mean, we could die in here, so I just want you to know that I’m sorry… or whatever. That was a real dick move and I need to trust you. You’re a badass, not a baby. Sorry.” Jester smiled. 

 

“Yeah,  _ or whatever,”  _ She grinned. Beau lightly punched her shoulder and Jester came behind her, wrapping her arms around Beau’s middle. 

 

“I love you, Jessy,” Beau murmured, patting her hands where they met at her stomach. Jester giggled and squeezed tighter, pressing her face into Beau’s back. Beau might like to act like a total dick, but she did something very interesting when she apologized to people. Most people would apologize to make themselves feel better. Beau apologized to mend those she had hurt. That, to Jester’s general dismay, was a rare quality in people. She was so proud. The Beau of a year ago wouldn’t have apologized at all. 

 

“I love you too,  _ Beau!”  _ She laughed quietly. 

 

“So now we just have to figure out how to survive this shit.” Beau muttered, not letting Jester let go yet. 

 

“Well, that guy said he was coming, so really, if we get possessed or whatever, he can just come and un-possess us.” Jester said into Beau’s shoulder.

 

“Are you advocating for us to get possessed?” Beau asked. Jester could hear the smile on her face. 

 

“I mean,  _ no,  _ not  _ really,  _ but like,” she laughed, “I’ve never been possessed before and I like to try everything at least once.” Beau scoffed. 

 

“You’re a fucked up chick,” Beau extracted herself from Jester’s arms. 

 

“Thank you!” Jester squealed and kissed Beau’s cheek. A deep, pink blush spread across Beau’s face as she stuttered and turned back to the window. Beau might be in love with Yasha, but she was also a self described ‘disaster lesbian.’ Almost any pretty girl had the ability to reduce her to stutters if they tried hard enough. Jester  _ loved  _ to see how red she could turn her. 

 

As they convened on the window that was too high up for them to climb down anyway, there came a knock at the bedroom door. It was soft, calm, three clear taps against the wood. They both froze, their breathes caught. Jester looked at Beau and Beau looked at Jester. Jester remembered that her axe was gone. 

 

The door burst open, alight with flames. Fire burned through the dresser entirely, scraps of floral shirts and sweaters flying up from it as they smoldered. Jester screeched and ducked her head, trying to avoid the burning shrapnel that splintered across the room. She watched as Caleb and Molly stepped through the doorway, untouched by the flames. Jester watched as Molly grinned, swung his swords, and lunged at Beau, much faster than he usually moved. Which meant that Caleb was coming for her. A bolt of fire hit the wall behind her head. Jester ran. 

 

She bolted into the master bathroom, hoping that Caleb would follow. Based on the heat that was at her back, he had. She burst into the shower, practically tearing the curtain down, and started to fumble with the faucet. She could never figure out other peoples showers without an instructional guide. She tugged and turned, desperately trying to figure out how the stupid fucking thing turned on! She could feel the heat getting closer and closer behind her, singeing at her hair. Tears pricked at her eyes. Finally, she tore at the faucet, turned the knob as far left as it would go, and the water shot out. There was a great sizzling sound as the cool water drenched Caleb behind her. She turned, watched as his fire fizzled out, and he growled in frustration. She ran from the bathroom and back into the bedroom. 

 

Beau was on her knees, eyes wide, Molly standing over her, his sword buried in her chest. There was a scream building in Jester’s chest, a great upheaval at the very sight of it. She swallowed it down. She ran. 

 

It wasn’t a nice feeling. Shame burned in her chest. She tried to move past it, to force herself to stay focused. She couldn’t help but look back. 

 

Beau was lurching from the bedroom doorway, bloody and burning. Jester could have broken down then and there. With her attention so captured, she didn’t see Yasha until she body checked her. A large, solid arm slammed into her chest and directed her to the ground, where she heard her back crack and felt the air escape her body. She looked up at Yasha as the tears started to freely flow down her cheeks and forced herself to get up. She only managed to get to her knees before Yasha was swinging at her again. She ducked under her arm and scurried to the stairs. Nott was perched there, her crossbow twanging as she let loose arrows. 

 

Jester couldn’t get back to the window. She couldn’t get down the stairs. She was stuck. 

 

When Jester was young, she spent the majority of her life stuck inside the Chateau. It wasn’t all bad, being rich certainly helped, and everything that she could have wanted was given to her within the hour. But she was always so  _ bored.  _ She longed to get into trouble somewhere, to run amuck, to scrape her knees, to ruff up her friends. To have friends. She had an imaginary one, a boy in a green cloak who played with her, got into trouble with her. He was a good thing to have, she supposed, a kid to play with. As it were, she had only her mother’s bodyguards to mess with. She would follow them around, swing from their arms, covering them with stickers, making them slide down the railings on the Chateau’s grand staircases with her. 

 

Jester gasped, ducked past Nott and situated herself on the stair railing. She breathed once, twice. Her eyes caught on Beau. 

 

And then there was a push. And then she was flying down the railing, past Nott and Yasha, leaving behind Beau and Molly and Caleb. She flew off of the end of the railing and landed on her side. Something popped and she  _ knew  _ that she’d be bruised in the morning, but that didn’t matter because she was so close. She got up and stumbled through the dark hallway, into the large living room that had separated them from Molly. The large, double doors were broken in, and her ax was missing. Never mind any of that, the front door was close enough that she could see it, and she went from careful but quick creeping to full out sprinting. She ran into the door and tugged on the handles. It didn’t budge. She inspected the deadlock, found it firmly in place, and the latch broken off. 

 

She could have cried. 

 

Jester pounded her hands against the door, screaming as she splintered her knuckles against the finished wood. Her head hung low, her heart still pounding in her chest, Jester gave up. 

 

A hand wrapped around her bicep and turned her around very suddenly. She yelped and ducked, trying to get as close to the ground as possible while still being on her feet. She came face to face with Fjord, growling, bleeding, and hovering over her. 

 

Fjord was taller than her, yes, but she was much stronger than him. She’d seen him summon monsters from the depths of a hell that she didn’t and couldn’t understand, but she could beat him in an arm wrestling match any day. As soon as he started swinging at her, she used that to her advantage. She paced backwards, putting some ground between them, and then she closed it. She ran at Fjord and rammed her shoulder into his sternum. They went down together, she collapsed on Fjord’s chest, and felt him struggle to find his bearings. As soon as they were on the ground, he reached up and wrapped his arms around her, trapping her against his chest. Jester struggled for a moment but Fjord was faster. He flipped them over, pinning Jester on her back, straddling her hips. 

 

It was funny, Jester was sure that she had had this dream before. 

 

Fjord’s fist drove into her cheek, snapping her neck to the side and making her head ring. Jester groaned and punched for Fjord’s stomach. He seemed entirely unphased. He gripped her chin in his bruising hand and punched her in the nose. Jester felt something crack, felt warm blood flowing down her face. She cried out and drove the heel of her hand into Fjord’s face, sending him tumbling off of her and on to the ground. She cried as she forced her way to her feet, clutching at her face and trying to prepare for Fjord’s next strike. 

 

As she turned, Jester saw Beau push through the broken down door. Yasha followed her, and then Molly, Caleb, Nott. Jester swallowed back her panic and squared her shoulders, keeping her eyes on Fjord as he circled around her. The others followed suit, slowly sinking into place. 

 

She was surrounded. 

 

It was very, very clear to her that she was going to die. Sure, possession was maybe not as permanent, but there was no guarantee that the weird Gilmore guy could actually help. She was trapped and pinned down and about to be torn to pieces and all of it by her friends. 

 

And she was so  _ angry.  _ She was so pissed, at the house, at the stupid demons, at her stupid friends for getting possessed. She wanted to sob. She wanted to collapse. She wanted to throw up and pass out and tear this house to the fucking ground with her bare hands. 

 

She felt that anger build up inside of her, anger at the injustice of it, at how unfair everything about this was. And she just  _ screamed.  _

 

She screamed and screamed, her voice going ragged in her throat. She screamed, felt it tearing at her chest, felt that righteous anger inside of her burning up and freezing. She screamed until she couldn’t scream anymore. 

 

She opened her eyes. 

 

They were on the ground. All of them, spread across the room. The room itself was covered in a thin sheen of ice. And then she realized that she was floating, glowing blue. Magic flowed around her, cold and burning. She blinked. 

 

And there was a familiar presence around her, the feeling of arms, of a warmth draping over her shoulders. She shivered, tilted her head, but didn’t look around. She didn’t need to. She knew who was at her back. She had known Him her entire life. 

 

“ _ Don’t worry,”  _ He whispered inside of her head, “ _ I’m watching,”  _

 

The magic swirling and spinning around her slowly lowered her to the ground. It set her feet on the hardwood floor, crunching the frost that had settled there beneath her sneakers. Her knees gave out as soon as she held her own weight. She sunk to the ground, curled onto her side, felt the pain and exhaustion pulling her down, down, until she was drifting somewhere cold and sharp and safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on tumblr at gayshitiguess.


	5. Where the Cards Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contagious Resurrection, Nila’s Dodge Caravan, Lap Sitting, Peacocking, and Holding On.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it!!! We finished this little case fic! I had a lot of fun digging into the ghost/demon shit in this universe and exploring characters that I haven’t gotten a chance to yet! I hope y’all had fun with this one! Come on by my tumblr gayshitiguess and chat with me! I love getting comments and asks!! Y’all make my day! I hope you enjoy!

Caduceus woke to movement in the house. It wasn’t an uncommon thing, at this point, people moving around his home even when he wasn’t. He shifted slowly on the couch, his muscles aching and his head pounding softly along with his heartbeat. He sat in the pain for a moment. He let it course through his skin and pound around his body. He wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with this kind of pain. Clarabell had lovingly named it a ‘magic hangover.’ He’d expelled more magic than he should, so his entire being was sore, like an overused muscle. He breathed deeply and tried to focus on his surroundings instead of the pain. 

 

He knew he was in the Grove. There was something about the magic on the land that ran through his veins. He could feel when he was nearer to Her, a type of warmth that he rarely went without when he was home. It was comforting, to walking into those pockets of Her. Sometimes, he would be walking, and he’d come across a graveyard, a forest, a field, and be swept up in that feeling. It reminded him of Home, of proper, capitol ‘H’ home. Which made him sad. In a good way. He didn’t know if there was a word for that. 

 

Human language confused him sometimes. He didn’t speak it properly. He had a spell, one of the necklaces that he wore, that translated his Fey Speech into their languages and vice versa. It was very handy, except for when he said something in one language that didn’t make sense in another. Idioms didn’t seem to track very well, and certainly not the ones that were in his language. Most people couldn’t even comprehend some of the things that he said, it all just sounded like a phone call that kept breaking up. He tended to speak as simply as he could. 

 

His living room was bright when he eventually opened his eyes. The late afternoon sun was slanting across the uneven hardwood floor. His long legs were bent unnaturally on his too-small couch. His back and neck cracked as he slowly unbent himself and put his feet on the ground. 

 

He stood and made his way to the kitchen, dragging his feet and clumsily braiding bits of his hair out of his face. A tall, warm figure was bustling around the kitchen, busily making food. The smells of vegetables and meats drifted through the space. 

 

Caduceus had met Nila a few times before, and he had been absolutely delighted to. She and her family were some of the only other fey that he had met on this plane. She had been here for a few hundred years longer than him, and she had managed to acclimate much better than he had. She looked much more human than him, her colors were much more natural, and though she was taller than him, with her natural look, she could pass as a very tall human. People might look twice, but not the way they did at him. 

 

She smiled warmly as soon as he entered the kitchen. 

 

“Hello, Caduceus,” She smiled, opening her arms for a hug. “You’ve been asleep for a few hours. Let’s get some food in you.” She patted his cheek and led him to sit at his dining room table. He gladly did as she directed, and settled at the table. He fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Caleb’s number. It didn’t even go to voicemail. An automated voice told him that the number was out of service. He tried Fjord and got the same message. Beau, Molly, Yasha, Jester, Nott, they were all out of service. Nila set a plate in front of him and Caduceus politely avoided the meat and ate at the vegetables around it. She didn’t say anything, just ate her own meal and waited for him. 

 

“Where’s Caleb?” He finally asked, his voice hoarse. She spent a few moments  chewing a potato before she answered. 

 

“He said that he was going to the House on Love Street and not to tell you that if you woke up before he got back,” She said, “but it seemed like something you should know.” Caduceus sighed and nodded. 

 

“Yeah that sounds like the kind of self destructive thing he would do.” He said, sipping at the cup of water that Nila had given him. 

 

“I think the others went with him,” She added. Caduceus sighed again, longer, more suffering. 

 

“Yeah,” He said. “Yeah. Okay, we need to go save them.” 

 

“I figured that we might.” She said. She collected his plate and gathered her things. Caduceus stood shakily and went to strap on his armor. 

 

__

 

The next time that Molly regained consciousness, he was laying in slowly thawing ice and dried blood. He gasped, couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, and felt that horrid, stabbing feeling of drawing cold air in too fast. He sputtered and coughed, and, with great effort, curled onto his side, drawing his arms in to wrap around his middle. Molly hadn’t been this cold since… 

 

Had he died again?  _ Again?  _ That would just be the icing on the cake of this already shitty, shitty day. It had taken him several weeks to find some sort of footing following his last foray into the underworld. He really didn’t want to start all over again. 

 

Something shifted next to him, and warmth was pressed to his back. He leaned into it, drew himself close to that feeling, and chased the fever of two bodies pressed together. With shaking hands, he reached behind him and found layers and layers of clothing, long, dirty hair, an a scruffy, unkept beard. Breathe tickled against his neck as a groan escaped Caleb. 

 

And that was funny because, last time he’d checked, Caleb had had Yasha’s sword in his chest. Molly remembered it clearly, in fact, it was an image he wouldn’t be able to banish to the back of his mind where the rest of his bad memories lived for some time. He jerked and awkwardly turned on the ice-covered hardwood floors, flailing onto his other side to face Caleb. Sure enough, he was alive. Beaten up, a bit bruised, and tired looking, but he was breathing, his heart was beating as Molly checked his pulse, and he was even doing that cute thing where he scrunched up his nose when he was sleeping. Molly ran his hands over Caleb’s face in a sort of manic relief. How had Caleb healed from that? People don’t just get stabbed in the chest and  _ get better!  _ Was he  _ contagious?  _

 

Caleb’s blue eyes cracked open, pained and confused, but saw Molly laying next to him and softened. 

 

“Mollymauk,” he whispered. 

 

And Molly remembered. The magic, the possession, his blade through Beau’s chest. The spectral image of Caleb, whispering in his ear in a voice that wasn’t quite right. He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to banish the feeling of slimy, bloody fingers in his brain. 

 

People started shifting around them. Molly fought his way to sitting up. They were all in the living room, sprawled out in a circle, covered in ice, and surrounded Jester.  _ Jester,  _ oh god, he’d almost forgotten. Whatever was living in this house, it almost had all of them, but Jester had managed to do… something. She was laying in the middle of the living room, ice splattered around her, laying very, very still. Molly’s heart jumped to his throat. 

 

It took several seconds for him to crawl to her across the slippery and half-melted floor. She was breathing, only just. Her heart was beating, only just. He wanted to cry, wanted to scream, but he didn’t have the energy for it. He dug his nails into his palm and drew blood. He focused on what he wanted his magic to change. He wanted Jester to change from barely alive to very, very alive. 

 

The magic built up in him, squirmed under his skin, and back-lashed. 

 

He reeled backwards with a short cry, clutching at his chest. He felt like he’d fallen straight onto his back in the middle of taking a shot of the strongest liquor in the world. He shivered and shook, trying to get it under control as his vision was blotted out by black spots. Caleb made a sound of distress, and then hands were steadying him. 

 

“Don’t cast,” Caleb warned, his voice rough, “you’ve got no energy to do it with.” Caleb rubbed his chest through the holes in the suede shirt that Molly was very upset to see ruined. Molly spent several moments trying to get his head back on his body. 

 

There was a thud like something colliding with the door, and then a splinter as the wood burst opened. Molly snapped to attention and made his way to his knees painfully, unsure where exactly his swords were, but prepared to protect them with his bare fists if he had to. 

 

And a tall, warm, beautiful woman stepped through the door. And Caduceus followed her. Molly sat back, chasing what little warmth that Caleb could offer. Yasha stirred a few feet to his left. Nott was skittering to her feet. Jester was still. 

 

“Oh no,” Caduceus breathed as he entered the space with some suspicion. He walked towards Fjord who was still halfway between consciousness and wake. 

 

“Jester first,” Molly insisted, “something’s wrong, her first.” Caduceus nodded as the woman took his place next to Fjord. She cupped his cheek in her hand and a warm breeze blew through the room from the open door. Fjord shifted as magic flew through him, but didn’t wake. 

 

Caduceus was kneeling by Jester, taking her up in his arms, and running magic through her. The cuts over her skin sealed, her bruises went from black to blue to green, and she jerked, consciousness returning to her with a jolt. She was breathing rapidly, panicking, but Caduceus kept his hold on her and spread more magic through her. She stilled again, her eyes bleary as she looked up at Caduceus. 

 

“You…” Caduceus examined her, “I knew…” he was at a loss for what to say. Molly watched as a huge, lopsided smile spread across his face. Jester was shaking, but wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Molly rose from his place on the ground and stumbled over to the two of them. He placed his hand on Jester’s back. As soon as he touched her, Jester flinched, her eyes wide as she searched his face. She must have seen the look in his eyes. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “god, Jessy, I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled him into the strange, three person hug. 

 

“Come on,” Caduceus rumbled, “come on, let’s go home.” 

 

___

 

Caleb had a lap full of Mollymauk and was struggling to stay conscious in the back of Nila’s Dodge Caravan. The thing wasn’t big enough for all of them, so, the solution of lap sitting had been proposed by Molly. Even when gravely injured, he managed to flirt. With Jester sat comfortably in the passenger seat, it left the seven of them to find a way to be comfortable in their less than adequate seating choices. Fjord was splayed out of the floor of the van, several children’s toy crushed beneath him. Nott was currently curled up in the child’s seat securely strapped in to the second row of seats, fitfully sleeping off whatever this post-possession fever was. Beau was still unconscious, mumbling softly under her breath, and held gently against Yasha’s chest next to Nott. Caleb had been watched as Beau threw herself over Yasha for a year, but this was the first time that he had seen Yasha be so careful with Beau. He had never seen her hold anyone like that. 

 

He, Caduceus, and Molly were sat in the very back row of seats and there was plenty of room for Molly to sit on his own, but he was strewn across Caleb’s lap, head pressed into Caleb’s neck. And he would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased with this outcome. Caduceus was sitting quietly, turning something over in his head. Caleb had seen him spend days at a time ruminating over something, but he was drawing closer and closer to a conclusion as they drove towards Modern Literature. 

 

The drive took fifteen minutes, but as it was, he was drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness without someone to distract him into wake, and it felt like much longer. The car was quiet. 

 

When they finally did pull up, Caleb led Molly onto the sidewalk with shaky feet and tossed Nott the keys, turning back to the car. 

 

“Thank you, my friend,” he said through the open window to Nila. She smiled and reached across the passenger seat, patting his cheek. 

 

“Of course,” She said, “call me if you need anything.” He nodded and watched as she drove away. 

 

There was a crash from inside Modern Literature, a clang, a curse, and then the door swung open without Nott having turned the key. 

 

Shaun Gilmore was strapped for battle. He had an ungodly amount of components in his pockets and in a small, leather bag in his hand. Books were tucked under his arms and he was running through an exorcism out loud as he prepared a transportation circle in his hands. He stopped as he saw the eight of them on the sidewalk. He was suspicious for a moment, and then he saw Caleb. 

 

“I came all this way for you to show up just as I get here?” He said, incredulously. “If you were going to be fine, you might as well have told me, I would have had tea first.” Caleb smiled and stepped forward, out from under Caduceus’ watchful hands, spotting both he and Molly. He made it a few steps before a knee buckled. Shaun saw him stumble and dropped everything in his arms to catch him. Component bottles shattered on the ground as Gilmore hauled him up. 

 

“Oh, my dear boy,” he said, much quieter, much more gently. “What did they do to you?”

 

“I’m fine, Shaun,” Caleb said as Gilmore carefully examined his face. “Really,” Gilmore quirked an eyebrow in disbelief and carefully led Caleb inside the shop. 

 

“Your friends doubt your abilities, I presume,” Gilmore said as he sat Caleb down in the iron room. 

 

“No,” Caleb said, “no, I’m quite sure that we would all be dead if it hadn’t have been for Jester.” He motioned to her, and she waved dreamily. Caduceus was hovering over her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. Caleb met his eyes as he mouthed the word; ‘ _ shock. _ ’

 

“I see,” Gilmore said. 

 

“Everyone,” Caleb muttered, rubbing at his temples, “this is Shaun Gilmore, he’s wonderful, don’t let him see any of your closets, he will  _ Queer Eye  _ you.” 

 

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Gilmore smiled. 

 

“Shaun, this is everyone,” He motioned around the room tiredly. 

 

“It’s very lovely to meet you all,” Gilmore said with a flourish, casting something or other and banishing the dirt, blood, and grime from their clothes and bodies. Caleb shivered. He always hated when Shaun did that. Mother hen, that one. Couldn’t stand the sight of a dirty sock. Caleb relaxed into his office chair and watched as Gilmore mingled. 

 

Most of the Nein retired to their rooms to sleep off whatever demonic hangover was ailing them. Caduceus seemed frustrated with being unable to alleviate the pain of the party as a whole. As it was, he was quietly counselling the still shell-shocked Jester in the kitchen while he made tea. Caleb stayed put and debriefed Gilmore on the situation, Molly staying close by his side. Gilmore listened closely and commented every once in a while. When he eventually got to Jester, Gilmore leaned forward, apparently drawn in. 

 

“She just…” Shaun mused, playing absentmindedly with his beard, “exploded with power?” 

 

“Like one might as a child, yes,” Caleb said, “but most of those who are gifted present signs by the time they are teenagers, Jester is an adult.” Gilmore nodded and rubbed his forehead. 

 

“Well, she could have a patron,” Molly suggested. Shaun had been eyeing Molly since they’d gotten home, and Caleb absolutely couldn't explain why. He knew that Molly knew, since he was holding himself in that, proud, peacock manner that he did when he was being examined. 

 

“I hardly think that demonic magic would be suitable to completely banish all signs of a demon from the property.” Gilmore said. “You’re a blood hunter, correct? I believe this is out of your area of expertise.” Caleb shot Shaun a look. Why on earth was he acting so cattily? 

 

“Well, I never said that it was a demonic presence.” Molly snapped back, tiredly. “I may have demonic powers, but I’ve done my homework on the celestial realm as well. The Raven sends her regards, by the way.” Molly said as he stood, pressed a kiss onto Caleb’s forehead, and stalked off towards the bedrooms. Caleb and Shaun sat in stunned silence for several seconds. 

 

“Why would you  _ tell him- _ “ Shaun began. 

 

“I didn’t.”  Caleb cut in. “Mollymauk he…” He trailed off, not entirely sure how to explain. “He’s well acquainted with death and dying. He might have gotten a message at some point.” Caleb was fumbling for excuses. 

 

“He is  _ rude! _ ” Shaun scolded, standing and pacing around the iron room. 

 

“You were rude first!” Caleb responded. He stood as well, but his legs still weren’t ready to support him. Shaun shot forward again and eased him back into his chair, argument forgotten. He sighed and examined Caleb closely, brushing his hair out of his face. “There’s nothing to fix here, I’ll have to sleep it off.” Shaun sighed again and sat across from Caleb. 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” Gilmore asked. “We talk  _ all the time,  _ I thought you liked telling me things. And you know that I would never,  _ ever _ judge a relationship, not with the crazy shit that I’ve gotten myself into.” 

 

“I do,” Caleb promised, “and I was going to. Eventually. But it was just something that I was keeping close to my chest. It’s still new and I wanted it to be just for us, for a while.” Gilmore sighed and nodded, taking Caleb’s hand in his own. 

 

“I understand, I suppose,” He smiled. “I’m sorry, my dear, I suppose I’m on a protective streak recently.” Caleb smiled and nodded. 

 

“A new De Rolo, I pressume?” 

 

“And even cuter than the last,” Gilmore lemented. “With that and the twins beginning to act more and more like their uncle…” 

 

“Your chickens are flying the coop.” He grinned as Gilmore tossed his head back melodramatically. 

 

“And having you across an ocean doesn’t help  _ at all!” _ He bemoaned. Caleb laughed lightly. 

 

“You’re a wonderful man, Shaun Gilmore.” He said softly, the exhaustion and stress of the day washing over him. 

 

“As are you, my darling.” Shaun replied. “And you should sleep.” He stood and offered his hand to Caleb. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.” Caleb stood and followed Gilmore towards the back. The shop had apparently noticed his presence, as there was a door next to his, a golden plate on it reading ‘ _ Gilmore.’  _

 

“Stay the night?” Caleb asked. Gilmore smiled. 

 

“No, my boy, I’m afraid that I’ve got business to attend to in London.” Gilmore pulled him into a hug. “Do inform your boyfriend that I don’t hate him. And be safer than you have been.” He pressed a kiss to Caleb’s forehead and slinked off towards the front. Caleb sighed and opened his door, ready to sleep for a week in Mollymauk’s arms. 

 

___

 

Jester didn’t sleep and neither did Caduceus. She felt bad, a bit, making him stay up with her, but she really didn’t think that he would have gone to bed if she had told him to. They were in the living area, curled up on a couch, some mindless TV show on in front of them. She had a cup of camomile tea in her hands, sweetened with honey, and growing colder by the moment. Caduceus was warm next to her, and she leaned into him, hoping to find some solace against his side.

 

She didn’t understand. She really couldn’t wrap her mind around it. The way that Caleb talked about it, he had had magic for his entire life. She had no idea how she would have managed to get magic out of nowhere. Maybe it was a fluke, or something else in the house that had used her. Maybe she was just crazy. Maybe she had just dreamt it all up and it was inside her head. 

 

“You’re thinking a lot,” Caduceus said softly, “wanna share?” He asked. Jester tugged on her bangs and sighed. 

 

“I don’t know what’s happening.” She said softly. 

 

“Yeah,” Caduceus rumbled, “but you’re gonna be okay.” He wrapped his arm around her and drew her closer. “It’s a bit complicated, but what you’ve been describing doesn’t sound malicious to me.” 

 

“What does it sound like?” She asked. Caduceus sighed and took a moment to think. He did that a lot. He was very careful with how he spoke to people, which left long, awkward pauses in conversations with him. 

 

“I don’t want to make you think that I know,” he said after a few moments, “because I don’t, but I can make a good guess.” She nodded. “It sounds like you have somebody celestial looking out for you.” 

 

“What does that mean?” She asked. 

 

“Well,” Caduceus replied, “you banished demonic forces on a very wide scale, you protected yourself against possession, and you healed the others of their more dangerous wounds, aside from the leftovers of the possession which I don’t think anybody can take care of. That makes me think that you have magic like mine.” 

 

“Like yours,” Jester repeated, sipping at her tea. She was getting overwhelmed in a far off, distant way. She could feel the waves and waves of emotion and confusion crashing over her, but she was already underwater, and the shore was in an entirely different world. She sighed and buried her face in Caduceus’ chest. “What do I do?” She asked, somewhat hopelessly. 

 

“Well, Ms. Jester,” Caduceus said, “I guess you just hang on as best you can.” 

 

Jester drifted to sleep at some point, tucked against Caduceus’ side, completely different than the person that she was the day before. Whatever had been wearing her shoes that morning, Jester Lavorre was standing in them now. A more knowledgeable Jester Lavorre, but Jester Lavorre nonetheless. Possibly more of Jester Lavorre than they had ever been before. 

 

All she could do that night as Caduceus carried her off to bed was sleep, hang on, and hope that, whatever Jester woke up the next morning, she would be a good one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you can find me on tumblr at gayshitiguess.

**Author's Note:**

> As always you can find me on tumblr at gayshitiguess


End file.
